


a little mishap (or five)

by HiraethSatisfied



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Coffee Shops, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Mentioned Nekomata Yasufumi, They keep running into each other, hinata keeps causing mishaps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiraethSatisfied/pseuds/HiraethSatisfied
Summary: Five times Shouyou is clumsy and one time Kenma catches him.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	a little mishap (or five)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiizuholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiizuholic/gifts).



> For Chiizu, for the Daiya no Chat Secret Santa Exchange. Hope you enjoy!

1\. 

Kenma's day had already been shitty before he'd gotten a door to the face.

He'd had to cancel his shift at his other job to take Kuroo to the hospital, had gotten to his shift at the flower shop late, and hadn't been able to focus on work at all, even though it's been busier than usual lately. His one blessing is that his boss, Nekomata-san, is as easygoing as ever, and had been understanding about the whole situation. He'd even sent his cat to keep Kenma company at the front counter as he'd taken over for some of their clients.

Still, Kenma counts down the seconds until his shift is over, and though he feels a little guilty, starts packing his things a few minutes early, determined to have this entire day over with as soon as possible. As soon as the second hand is on the hour, he hops off his stool and gives the cat one last pet before quietly saying goodbye to Nekomata-san and leaving the store.

He's already gone two blocks when he finally thinks to text Kuroo and ask whether he needs anything. But when he reaches into the pocket of his hoodie, he's met with empty space.

Shit. He must have left it at the flower shop.

Turning, he starts to make his way back to the store, walking as quickly as possible. In his haste, he doesn't realize that the door to the shop is opening until his forehead collides with it, knocking him backward.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

Kenma blinks and rubs at his head, barely registering the shock of orange hair in front of him and the wide, concerned eyes.

"It's okay," he tries, even though his head is starting to throb, but the person shakes their head vehemently.

"I really am sorry, you should get that checked! Or better yet, I'll take you myself. Or get you a coffee or something."

The stranger's hands are fluttering around Kenma helplessly, and Kenma swears that the energy that this man exudes, nervous or not, is making him even more tired. "It's really fine," he says again. "I'm also kind of in a hurry." Anything to deter the man from following after him. "So if you'll excuse me..."

The stranger looks at him for a moment, eyes still round and wide and a lovely shade of brown. "Are you sure? I really don't mind making it up to you."

Kenma closes his eyes for a second. "I mean it," he says. "Don't worry about it."

Slowly, the man nods and steps to the side. "Okay, but if you start to feel weird or anything find me, okay?"

Kenma doesn't have the brainpower to keep interacting with him, so he mumbles something vaguely affirmative and steps around him, going into the shop.

It's only after he finds his phone behind the counter that he realizes the stranger hadn't even given Kenma his name or number anyway.

* * *

2.

Kenma's next shift at the flower shop is on Thursday.

Thankfully, today is a little better. He doesn't have to cook because he'd struggled with that yesterday to leave enough leftovers, and nothing else has come in the way of him and some peace and quiet.

That is, until a familiar shock of bright orange hair peeks through the door of the flower shop, as if Kenma can't see the rest of his body through the glass.

"Welcome in," he calls halfheartedly, wondering what the odds are that they would run into each other twice in the same week when they've never seen each other before.

"Oh, it's you! Hi!" the stranger calls brightly, and squares his shoulders, marching up to the counter. "I didn't know you worked here. Could you help me find, uh..." He squints at some smudged writing on his wrist and makes a little sound of affirmation when he finds what he's looking for. "Pleiades!"

Kenma furrows his brow in confusion. "Like the stars?"

"No, it's a type of flower," the stranger explains patiently. "Noya-san wrote it right here!"

He shoves his hand toward Kenma's face, and Kenma squints a little, trying to make out the messy scrawl. Whoever this Noya-san was, they were going to have to work on their penmanship.

"Do you mean peonies?" he asks finally, because there's likely no other option.

"Oh!" The customer's eyes positively _sparkle_ , and Kenma can't help but be slightly taken aback by it. "You're totally right, that's exactly what he said. You must be a genius!"

Kenma has no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn't, opting to make his way around the counter so he can head for one of the displays, with rows of buckets that hold daffodils and hyacinths. Beyond those are a couple rows of peonies, and he gestures to them, turning to find that the guy had followed him there.

"Take your pick," he says.

The stranger peers forward, sticking his face close to the flowers and walking over a few paces. He stops at one of the buckets, and without warning, lifts the entire thing, using the momentum to shift it further upward in his hands. In the process, however, he swings around a little too hard and stumbles into Kenma, bucket and all. Yelping in surprise, his hands let go of the bucket, and it clocks Kenma hard on the thigh as it spills to the floor, the flowers scattering everywhere.

"Ow," Kenma winces, rubbing at his thigh and then his chest.

The customer gasps. "Did I hurt you? Oh my god, this is the second time I've hurt you, and I don't have an ice pack or anything and you must be so mad at me - I really am sorry, how can I--"

"Forget it happened," Kenma says, forcing himself to sound nonchalant. He doesn't want the guy to accidentally hurt either of them again, and he's pretty sure there's ice in the back. He doesn't like the attention, anyway, even though the guy seems genuinely worried. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" The guy has already crouched down to pick up the fallen flowers, but pauses and looks back up at Kenma. His eyes are doing that thing again, on the verge of tears this time, and Kenma sighs, deflating.

"It really is fine, I'll just get some ice from the back once we clean up and you've got your flowers." His voice is a little flat, but it seems to assuage the customer's worries somewhat, because he nods slowly.

"Alright," he says. "But I'll pay for the spilled flowers and a new batch."

Kenma frowns. "You don't have to--"

"I insist." The guy sends Kenma a blinding grin, and maybe he's a little weak.

He ends up paying for the spilled batch, a new bucket, and a single red Gerbera daisy stalk. When Kenma raises an eyebrow at it, the stranger just smiles hopefully, and holds it out to Kenma.

"This one's just for you," he says, and before Kenma can say anything, waves with a cheerful goodbye and practically runs out the door.

Kenma blinks, having instinctively grabbed the flower, and feels the warmth starting to rise in his cheeks despite the slight throbbing in his thigh.

* * *

3.

Mornings are the worst thing to ever have been invented.

Kenma drags himself out of bed for his only morning shift of the week, generally feeling like death. Even washing his face and grabbing some toast doesn't help wake him up, so he looks at the clock for a moment, trying to figure out whether he has enough time to grab coffee before heading to work.

The coffee shop is about halfway between his apartment and the flower shop, which works in his favor. He slinks through the door, burrowing further into his jacket even though the interior of the shop is warm, and sidles over to wait for the few people ahead of him in line.

After ordering, he steps to the right to make way and leans against the wall, tapping away at a mobile game to avoid talking to anyone. When his name is called, however, he pushes himself off the wall and goes to retrieve his drink, only to be met with that familiar shock of orange hair.

"It's you!" the barista says, sounding way too cheerful for this early in the morning. He hasn't set down the cup on the counter, either, so Kenma can't grab it and leave. "Your name is Kenma?"

Kenma tries to muster the energy to glare at him, but finds it really just isn't there in the face of that bright smile. "Yeah," he says instead, wondering if he'll regret it later.

But the guy keeps going. "My name's Shouyou! Just so we're even. And I didn't get to say it the other day, but you have really pretty eyes."

Blinking, Kenma stares at him. "What."

However, the barista seems to realize that he'd actually said his last sentence out loud, because his entire body clenches, and he tries to lean forward and gesture wildly. The cup drops out of his hands, bounces off the counter, and spills on Kenma's shirt.

For a moment, both of them stare at the growing stain. Then the barista says, slowly and nervously, "I have an extra shirt in my bag."

Kenma's brain isn't awake yet, and he has no idea what is going on or why this keeps happening, so he just nods. By the time the coffee is starting to feel cold and wet, Shouyou has sprinted to the back room and returned with a soft white sweater, starting on the drink again and apologizing a mile a minute.

"You probably think I'm a huge klutz and never want to see me again, and that's okay," he finishes forlornly. "And you don't have to return the sweater, but here's my number in case you want to." He scribbles something on the side of the cup, careful not to spill it this time, and slides it across the counter.

Kenma decides he doesn't like how sad Shouyou sounds, so he carefully picks up the sweater and the coffee and tries for a small smile.

"It happens," he says quietly. "I don't blame you, and you shouldn't either."

Shouyou's hesitant grin is worth being late to work.

* * *

4.

It's been a week. Kenma has tried to work up the nerve to text the number sitting in his contacts, he really has. But the newly washed sweater sits on the coffee table in the living room and the courage to text the number fades more and more every day.

He hates it, but that's how he's always worked, second-guessing and overanalyzing and letting things get the best of him. It's why he hasn't tried to make new friends or date or anything in years. Kuroo sometimes tries to help, but even he can't always pull Kenma out of his shell.

The thought has been plaguing his mind so much that he'd decided to do groceries just to have something to distract him. It's familiar monotony that calms him down, and he pushes his cart through the baking aisle, wondering whether it would be too soon to bake another apple pie.

"Look out!" someone calls behind him, and Kenma barely has time to turn before a shopping cart glances off his own, knocking both of them away from each other. Thankfully, he doesn't hit any of the shelves when he jumps out of the way, but frowns a little as the person who had been pushing the cart jogs over to catch up with it.

It's Shouyou.

Kenma sighs, because of course it is. "We have to stop meeting like this," he says flatly.

"My fault," Shouyou says, but he's grinning a little. Kenma tries to ignore that he's already softening inside, but it's hard. "Maybe it's a sign."

One of Kenma's eyebrows creeps up his forehead. "A sign that you're going to get one of us hurt?"

"No, a sign that I should properly ask you out."

Kenma nearly chokes, but even though Shouyou is smiling, he seems serious. "You don't want to ask me out."

Shouyou tilts his head. "But I do? I gave you my number too, so I thought you'd text at least about whether you were keeping the sweater, but I guess you're not the texting type."

That's a kind way of putting that Kenma had kind of ghosted him. But rather than being something meant to guilt-trip Kenma, it feels more genuine, a little confused but not disappointed or angry. That's a first.

"I'm just not really... social," he tries.

"That's okay!" Shouyou says brightly. "We can have a stay-in date like doing puzzles or crafts or something." He blinks, trying to backtrack. "I mean, if you want, that is."

Kenma feels like he's standing at a crossroads, right there in front of the condensed milk and chocolate chips. This date would be something on his terms, something low-expectations and comfortable, without the pressure of other people's eyes. He could say no, and go back to his routine and try not to think about what could have been. Or he could say yes, and push himself a little outside his comfort zone for the boy who keeps getting thrown into his path with vibrant eyes and a brighter smile.

"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath. "Let's do it."

* * *

5.

This time, Shouyou doesn't let him get away without texting his number first. Shouyou's excitable and sends a slew of texts when they get home, taking the lead on most of their planning about how this date should go but asking Kenma questions to get his input along the way. Kenma finds it's not as bad as he thought, because he can choose to respond at his own pace. It's nice, really, that this is the easiest social interaction he's had in so long with someone he doesn't already know.

They agree to stay in at Shouyou's apartment, and Kenma tries not to stress over what to wear or overthink it, just showing up in something comfortable but nice. As soon as Shouyou opens the door, he's off, already chattering away like they've known each other for ages as they move into the kitchen. He already has all the ingredients for apple pie out, because that's what Kenma had told him he'd been considering making in the baking aisle at the grocery store.

It's also easy as they chat while measuring and mixing ingredients. Just like over text, Kenma is content to mostly listen, and Shouyou doesn't seem put off by it, letting his portable speaker play music in the gaps and not pushing him to respond.

As Shouyou turns back to the kitchen island from the stove and reaches to help with the flour, however, he trips, and topples the entire bag, sending a cloud of flour billowing onto Kenma's face and arms.

Kenma can't help it. He snorts, and then he can't stop laughing, coughing a little from the flour in between.

As he gradually stops, he takes a deep breath in and looks up to find Shouyou staring at him.

"What?" he asks, suddenly self-conscious.

"I uh, I really like it when you laugh."

Kenma can already feel the tips of his ears burning, and the rest of his face follows suit. "Cheesy," he says, not knowing how else to respond.

"It's just true!" Shouyou says, starting to laugh himself. "Just like I like your cool hair, and your eyes especially, and your--"

"Okay, okay," Kenma grumbles halfheartedly. "I get it, you like me."

Shouyou grins. "And does that mean you like me too?"

Kenma considers saying something sarcastic in return, but Shouyou's eyes glimmer in a way that makes him think the statement had been meant to test the waters, careful but light enough not to scare Kenma away.

He appreciates it, so he decides to be honest.

"Yeah. I do."

* * *

+1.

"I thought you said you were good at salsa," Kenma says.

Shouyou bristles, and Kenma can feel it from where their hands are connected. "I am! But usually I do the following part! So mean, Kenma."

The corners of Kenma's lips quirk upward. "You can do the following part if you want."

But Shouyou shakes his head. "I wanted to challenge myself, remember?"

The way he says it makes Kenma look up to meet his eyes. There's always such bold, brazen confidence in them, like Shouyou can take on the world if he puts his mind to it. And honestly, with what Kenma's come to know about him, he doesn't doubt that Shouyou can do it, do anything.

That is, until Shouyou missteps, and trips sideways.

Luckily, Kenma's used to this by now, and just reaches out until he's caught Shouyou around the waist. Like this, he's looking down at Shouyou's eyes, the same bright and sparkly ones that had captivated him all those months ago outside the flower shop. The music playing from Shouyou's speaker on the coffee table fades into the background in the wake of Shouyou's gaze, looking at him like he'd hung the stars.

"What was that thing you said the other day?" Kenma asks, a little breathless all of a sudden. "Tie your shoelaces, so you won't go falling for anyone else?"

"Kenmaaaa!" Shouyou whines, and Kenma laughs as he pulls them both to a standing position and laces their fingers together again.

Some things won't change, but some things are welcome to disrupt his routine in the most wonderful way.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe and support social justice. Author will be revealed on Dec 25th.


End file.
